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Sunday, September 4, 2016

Can You Forgive Her?

Can You Forgive Her? by Anthony Trollope
"But, nevertheless, he desired something more than money. The triumph of being preferred to John Grey,--of having John Grey sent altogether adrift, in order that his old love might be recovered, would have been too costly a luxury for him to seek, had he not in seeking it been able to combine prudence with the luxury...It was on a calculation of the combined advantage he made his second offer to his cousin."

So, cousins are getting engaged, but that was just fine in those days. I had nearly come to accept George Vavasor, even though I knew he was marrying Alice for her money. Alice knew it too, so who was I to judge? But than he wanted her to speak words of love and act all maidenly and blushing, so that his triumph could be complete. What an ass! I knew I liked John Grey better for some reason. Grey visits Alice after she writes him a Dear John I'm Marrying George letter. He quickly realizes that not only does Alice not love George, she actually dreads marrying him and that is the real reason she's waiting a year before she'll agree to get married. She's hoping that in a year she will be able to repress her shuddering whenever George enters the room. Why she agreed to marry George is a bit of mystery, even to Alice. But this book is not called Can You Understand Her?

'Alice,' he [Grey] said, speaking still very slowly, 'nothing has ever yet been done which need to a certainty separate you and me. I am a persistent man, and I do not give up all hope. A year is a long time. As you say yourself, I do not as yet quite understand you. But Alice, -- and I think that the position in which we stood a few months since justifies me in saying so without offense, -- I love you now as well as ever, and should things change for you, I cannot tell you with how much joy and eagerness I should take you back to my bosom. My heart is yours now as it has been since I knew you.'

And I know John Grey is the solid, dependable type that ladies are supposed to despise, but I swooned a little bit when I read that. Solid, dependable men are, and have always been, vastly underrated.

I have been reading this 830-page Victorian novel in installments. It was originally published in serial format, four chapters at a time. I'm nearly half way through and it is getting harder to stop after four chapters each month. I don't know if I have the self-discipline to continue this reading plan. But, even if I abandon it, the plan will have served its purpose in helping me tackle a book I would never have started otherwise. I like to think of Victorian readers eagerly waiting for the next installment of Can You Forgive Her? or Great Expectations much as I look forward to the next episode of Mr. Robot. I'm old enough to prefer a weekly series to binge-watching an entire season in one weekend. Or maybe it is just nostalgia for the pleasures of anticipation that seem to be rare these days?